I had just come up the stairs having stowed my bike in the basement as a hoard of college-aged kids approached my driveway and ascended my stoop. I watched them as they looked from me to the door and back again, and then converged upon me in the telltale swarm of the canvasser. You know, those kids who go door-to-door for pennies an hour every summer asking for money for some cause. Only, these kids weren't asking for money but instead handing out light bulbs.
CFLs, to be exact. When I realized who they were I told them that I'd already received my free light bulb at the farmers' market a few weeks ago. One of them offered another one anyway and I took it, asking if he wanted to give me his shpeal so at least he'd feel legit. He looked at me sideways and cocked his head, then sort of groaned, "This is a free light bulb to save the environment." I must have looked expectant as I began asking him how and why this light bulb would save the environment, because he interjected before I could finish with a less than sheepish, "They only taught me the short version of the shpeal. People like it better."
Ah. I see.
I thanked them for the light bulb and they descended my stoop, moving on down the street to spread their energy-saving cheer. Later, in the shower (where most good thinking happens) I found myself replaying the interaction and feeling bothered by the way it had gone.
Why didn't that kid have anything more to say, I wondered.
Doesn't he know that he's doing a really important job?Well, no, probably not. I realized that he's probably just some young dude who thinks the environment is cool and was roped into volunteering by his posse of friends. I wanted to go back to him on my porch and make some use of my environmental education training. I should have asked him seriously if he could tell me about the light bulb, about how and why making such a small change in my daily life really does matter, and what the semi-scientific explanation is for how it's doing the environment some good. The truth is that he probably hasn't thought about it. It's more common than not for people of all ages to get caught up in a cause, standing on a street corner or shouting to strangers, and then to fall flat-footed when actually questioned about the meaning of it all. Not to discredit the young guy who came to my door, but it's these kinds of activists whom I fear are giving environmentalism a bad name. Honestly, we sound like a bunch of whackos when we get all up in arms about something we don't even understand.
So, I should have asked him. Not to badger him or make him feel stupid, but to really engage him in a positive discussion. I should have helped him get to the answer about saving energy and reducing our dependence on fossil fuel. I should have used my newly-acquired inquiry methods to get him to tell me why it's important to the environment and more importantly, why it's important to him. Because it's the personal perspective that is so needed and so sorely lacking in this most recent push to "be green." It's become a soulless marketing rally cry absent of any real heart, and I fear that this impersonality will be its demise. What we need are real people really caring about this stuff, and for them to be willing to talk about it from a place that matters to them. This is what draws others in and helps them connect, what makes us all realize that we're in it together, and that if this guy can care and really feel like he's making a difference, then maybe so can I.
I should have said all that. Instead, I stood there on my porch, light bulb in hand, with the gears barely creaking into motion as I watched the dude and his friends saunter down my street. Next time though, I'll be prepared. Next time I'll blow the doors right off.
